"Farewell, my dear Thankful, thou wife of my youth, and mother of my first born; the beginning of my strength--farewell. Yet a few more lingering years of sorrow, pain and toil, and I shall be with thee, and clasp thee to my bosom, and thou shalt sit down on my throne, as a queen and priestess unto thy Lord, arrayed in white robes of dazzling splendor, and decked with precious stones and gold, while thy queen sisters shall minister before thee and bless thee, and thy sons and daughters innumerable shall call thee blessed, and hold thy name in everlasting remembrance." The interesting story which Parley tells of the visit of the spirit of his wife to him, while he was lying, a prisoner for the gospel's sake, in a dark, cold and filthy dungeon in Richmond, Ray county, Missouri, will be to the foregoing a charming sequel. While tortured with the gloom and discomforts of his prison, and most of all with the inactivity of his life of constraint, and earnestly wondering, and praying to know, if he should ever be free again to enjoy the society of friends and to preach the gospel, the following was shown to him, which we will tell in his own language: "After some days of prayer and fasting," says he, "and seeking the Lord on the subject, I one evening retired to my bed in my lonely chamber at an early hour, and while the other prisoners and the guard were chatting and beguiling the lonesome hours in the upper part of the prison, I lay in silence, seeking and expecting an answer to my prayer, when suddenly I seemed carried away in the spirit, and no longer sensible to outward objects with which I was surrounded. A heaven of peace and calmness pervaded my bosom; a personage from the world of spirits stood before me with a smile of compassion in every look, and pity mingled with the tenderest love and sympathy in every expression of the countenance. A soft hand seemed placed within my own, and a glowing cheek was laid in tenderness and warmth upon mine. A well-known voice saluted me, which I readily recognized as that of the wife of my youth, who had then for nearly two years been sweetly sleeping where the wicked cease from troubling and the weary are at rest. I was made to realize that she was sent to commune with me, and to answer my question. "Knowing this, I said to her, in a most earnest and inquiring tone: 'Shall I ever be at liberty again in this life, and enjoy the society of my family and the saints, and preach the gospel, as I have done?' She answered definitely and unhesitatingly: 'Yes!' I then recollected that I had agreed to be satisfied with the knowledge of that one fact, but now I wanted more. "Said I: 'Can you tell me how, or by what means, or when, I shall escape?' She replied: 'That thing is not made known to me yet.' I instantly felt that I had gone beyond my agreement and my faith in asking this last question, and that I must be contented at present with the answer to the first.